


To Be Good Enough For Him

by therighteouswriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Anger, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Biting, Blow Jobs, Codependency, Come Eating, Emotional Manipulation, Jealousy, Light breath play, M/M, Mentions of Voyeurism, Obsession, Porn with a tiny bit of plot?, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Sam is 16, Sibling Incest, Spanking, Unhealthy Relationships, Wincest - Freeform, dean is 20, extremely light dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 09:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3891397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therighteouswriter/pseuds/therighteouswriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first time ever writing Wincest and I'm actually really nervous about it. Lol Please be gentle! <3</p><p>Also, this is unbeta'd so please forgive any mistakes. Hope you all enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time ever writing Wincest and I'm actually really nervous about it. Lol Please be gentle! <3
> 
> Also, this is unbeta'd so please forgive any mistakes. Hope you all enjoy!

Sam couldn’t stand it when John treated him like a child. He was sixteen, for Christ’s sake, not six! He didn’t need to be coddled, and he certainly didn’t need a babysitter. Yet, his father just couldn’t seem to grasp that concept. No matter how many times Sam proved that he was not only street smart, but intellectual as well. And that pissed Sam off. He wasn’t some fragile prized fucking possession to be cherished. Not when John treated Dean like he was expendable, like Sam was the only thing that mattered and his big brother was chopped liver. No, if anything, Dean was the one who deserved John’s undivided attention and love. He followed the man’s instruction without question, unlike Sam, and never once complained about the way the old man treated him like just another grunt. Never complained about how his father, the man who should have been taking care of Sam, had bumped that responsibility onto his oldest son. Dean just soldiered on with a “yes sir.”

 

It killed Sam to be Dean’s responsibility. Yeah, Dean was his big brother and he knew in his heart that the older boy truly believed it was his job to take care of Sam, but knowing that John forced the job on him so adamantly didn’t sit well.

 

But it was more than that. Sam wanted to be Dean’s equal, to stand side by side with the man he admired, not behind him. Although, **admired** might have been too dull of a word. And maybe Sam could never stand shoulder to shoulder with someone so intangible as Dean. After all, his big brother was a force to be reckoned with. A Texas sized tornado wrapped up in a pretty, freckled package. Dean was fascinating, if Sam was being honest with himself, and it amazed him that even with all the time they spent together, his big brother was still a mystery to him.

 

And in the long run, Sam knew he really shouldn’t complain. He was lucky to have a big brother that would do anything for him. That would sacrifice everything to keep him safe. It was just that Sam wished Dean would be selfish every now and then. Sam was constantly taking up Dean’s time, getting attention he could have easily been giving to others. When he was younger, that didn’t faze Sam. He didn’t have a problem monopolizing Dean’s time. But now that he was older, it bothered him that he’d been so selfish. And while he’d rather piss glass than share Dean, he knew that wasn’t right. His big brother deserved to have a life outside of him.

 

*********

 

**July 4 th 1999**

Sam was livid.

 

It was a holiday, and the Winchesters should have been celebrating as a family. John should have driven Dean and Sam out to the lake; they should have eaten hamburgers, drank an illegal beer (or two) and watched fireworks. They should have had a few laughs as they lay on a blanket down by the shore line enjoying each other’s company.

 

They should have been together. But they weren’t.

 

No, instead John was off on a hunt two states over, probably oblivious to the fact that it was even a holiday or that his youngest son loathed him for being such an obsessed, selfish bastard.

 

However, John, surprisingly, was not the center of Sam’s anger at the moment. Shockingly enough, his uncontrollable teenage rage was directed at his big brother. And it was for the simple fact that Dean actually had the balls to defend their father’s absence. It was the same old shit. “Dad’s a hero, Sammy.” “Dad saves people, Sammy.” Sure, that meant something to Sam when he was a gullible twelve year old who thought his dad was the greatest thing since sliced bread but now? Not so much. Not when he’d seen his big brother save countless lives and still give him the love and attention he craved from their deadbeat father.

 

Lying on his back on the ratty motel mattress, Sam let out a frustrated huff. It had been an unbearably hot day in North Carolina, and even now that the sun was setting, the temperature was still not ideal. Humidity made the air damp and thick, like Sam was taking deep breathes inside a sauna. Menacing storm clouds loomed at the edge of town, streaks of lightening flashing across the sky periodically, the low, restless sound of thunder rumbling in the distance.

 

It’d been about an hour since he’d blown up at Dean, the two of them sitting in silence during that time, brooding. And what sucked the most was that Sam couldn’t even stay mad at his older brother. Hell, he shouldn’t have even been mad at him in the first place. It was just Sam had so much rage within himself and sometimes, even though he _knew_ Dean didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end, he lashed out at him. It also didn’t help that he knew Dean could take it. Knew his big brother would let Sam use him as an emotional punching bag. That was Dean Winchester. Take a beating, verbally or physically, and just keep on going. Sam honestly wasn’t sure if he envied Dean for that trait, or pitied him. There was even a small part of Sam that thought maybe, just maybe, Dean got off on the pain. Better to feel agony than nothing at all. But he couldn’t dwell on that thought for too long. Not when it made him want to wrap his arms around his older brother, tell him it was okay to feel happiness as well. That he could have that. That he was _worthy_ of that.

 

Slowly turning onto his right side, Sam dared to look over at the queen sized bed across from his which Dean was laying on. His older brother was stretched out on his stomach across the mattress, wearing nothing but a pair of loose fitting grey sweatpants that hung down around his hip bones. His gaze was glued to a Sport’s Illustrated magazine; and he was bobbing his head to the radio, doing his best Bret Michaels impression as he softly sang along to Talk Dirty to Me.

And even though they had the window open, a warm July breeze causing the curtains to flutter, Sam could see sweat rolling down Dean’s bare back, his hair messy and damp.

 

Licking his lips, Sam fought to control his breathing, highly aware that his dick was **way** too interested in how good his big brother looked.  It was times like this he really wished he was in denial enough to blame the reaction on being a horny teenaged boy. But unfortunately, Sam knew better. He knew that the way he felt about Dean went so much further than just a little brother idealizing his big brother. Sam **loved** Dean. Was in love with Dean. And he would do anything for him. Sam would even give up his own life if it meant Dean could live and be happy.

 

It was a crazy feeling. To love someone so much that his life felt so much more important than your own. And while Sam, with some difficulty of course, was starting to accept these strange, sometimes overwhelming feelings for his brother, Dean was trying anything and everything to ignore them. Not that Sam was surprised. That was the Dean Winchester way. Ignore a problem until it blows up in your face or, fingers crossed, goes away.

 

And at first, Sam had left it alone. Truthfully, he would have been content to suffer through the whole unrequited love bullshit solo but when Dean started showing interest, Sam couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

 

Their sexual interactions were timid at first, a gentle touch here, a sweet, innocent kiss there. It wasn’t until one night, when the boys were celebrating a John Winchester week long departure, that they’d gotten obliterated drunk and had some pretty wild, kinky sex. Of course, Dean regretted it afterwards, profusely apologizing and telling Sam how he was older and should have known better. That none of it was Sam’s fault and that if he never wanted to speak to Dean again, he’d understand.

 

Sam wanted to maintain his relationship was Dean, obviously, and told him as much. But ever since that night there had been a tension between them. So much so that even John “I’m oblivious to everything” Winchester had commented on it. But what the hell was Sam supposed to do? He’d made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t mad at Dean; it wasn’t his fault that his big brother couldn’t get out of his own fucking way.

 

And Sam, being the Winchester that he was, certainly couldn’t just break down and tell Dean that he loved every damn minute of the brutal fucking his big brother had given him that night. That he couldn’t think of a better way to have lost his virginity. He couldn’t just come out and say that he loved Dean so much that sometimes it felt like his heart was going to explode from the feeling. He just couldn’t. Because if there was one thing Sam knew for sure, it was that Dean didn’t do emotions.

 

“Dude, what the fuck? You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes and it’s seriously starting to freak me out.”

 

The sound of Dean’s voice, low and rough, made Sam’s heart flutter, the younger boy focusing his eyes to see a pair of bright green orbs fixed on him.

 

“…Wasn’t staring at you, jackass. Don’t flatter yourself,” Sam huffed as he quickly flopped onto his back once more.

 

“Whatever you say, Sammy.”

 

Sam could practically here Dean smiling, his dick giving an involuntary twitch when he pictured that signature cocky smirk on his big brother’s perfect, full lips.

 

“Dude, why are you still here?”

 

Eyebrows knitting together in confusion, Dean looked up from his magazine once more, tilting his head to the side.

 

“Whaddaya mean? I know it’s not much, man, but I promised to take you to see fireworks and that’s what I’m gonna do. It’s just not late enough,” Dean explained.

 

And even though Sam knew he meant nothing by it, the way Dean spoke to him made his blood boil. Like he was some spoiled child Dean was trying to appease.

 

“I’m not a kid, Dean! You don’t have to distract me with loud sounds and bright colors!”

 

“Dude, what the fuck has gotten into you lately? Why is it that every time I try to do something nice for you, you practically spit in my face?”

 

Rolling his eyes, Sam sat up in one swift motion, Dean mirroring his action so that they were facing each other, flushed not only from the heat but anger.

 

“I don’t want your pity, Dean! We both know you’d rather be hanging out at some bar right now picking up chicks. Not waiting around in this God forsaken motel room with your pain in the ass little brother until you have to take him to go see fireworks,” Sam gritted out, regretting his words before he was even done speaking them.

 

He sounded so pouty. No wonder Dean ran around treating him like a brat, because he totally was one.

 

“ _Sammy_.”

 

Fuck. How dare that asshole use his nickname as a weapon like that? And how dare his dick betray him by loving the way the word just rolled off Dean’s tongue, his sinful, skilled tongue.

 

“Don’t **Sammy** me, jerk. It’s true.”

 

Shaking his head, Dean stood up cautiously, a look of understanding in his beautiful green eyes that made Sam want to punch him in his stupid, wonderful face.

 

“Wow, little brother,” Dean chuckled, taking a couple steps forward so he was standing directly in front of Sam, close enough to touch. “Spending time with me so unpleasant that you’d rather I was out tryin’ to get lucky? You honestly prefer the thought of me balls deep in some slut’s tight soaking wet pussy to us watching fireworks together?”

 

Now, Sam always knew he was a little twisted, had darker thoughts and desires than most sixteen year old boys, but even he loathed the fact that hearing his brother talk about fucking some random chick turned him on like a light switch.

 

Dean had a way of doing that to him though. Making Sam feel things he never thought he’d be able to feel. And right now there was a thunderstorm of emotions swirling around inside him. Lust, anger, jealously, but most of all, love. Unfathomable, unbreakable, pure and devoted love.

 

“No, no of course not, Dean.”

 

Sam had meant to tell his big brother to stick it where the sun didn’t shine, he really had. However, with the older boy running his finger through his long, shaggy hair, looking down at him like he could eat Sam alive, that’s not what ended up coming out of his mouth.

 

“Hmm, really little brother? Cause you seem awfully intent on getting rid of me,” Dean mused as he brought his free hand up to Sam’s left cheek, gently caressing his skin with his callused thumb.

 

Sam loved feeling Dean’s hands on him. The same hands that’d held him when he had a nightmare, feed him when he was unable to do it himself, high-fived him when he’d gotten a good grade in school, opened a beer for him even though he wasn’t supposed to. Those hands were rough and had been though years of hard work and abuse, but they instantly turned to silk when they were on Sam. And he absolutely adored and longed for their touch.

 

“Or maybe, you were hoping I’d bring some cute little thing back to the motel? Is that it, Sammy? You get off thinking about your big brother bending over some whore? You wanna watch while I pound into her, make her scream my name?”

 

 _Shit_. He did. He really, really wanted to see that. To watch his brother work wonders with that huge beautiful dick of his, Sam jerking himself off while Dean gave some slut the fuck of her life.

 

Hey, it wasn’t like they hadn’t done it a couple times before. However, it was odd to Sam, even now, that watching Dean with someone else did it for him.

 

It was an accident at first. Dean was drunk, had nowhere but their motel room to take his latest conquest. Sam remembered his brother’s voice, hoarse, desperate, whispering to the girl to be quiet while he lay in the bed across from them, feigning sleep. He’d tried to ignore them, of course. But the louder the moans got, the way Dean took control when he fucked someone, made Sam’s skin catch fire and he found himself turning over to watch his brother in action. Soon, it all became too much to handle, Sam absentmindedly slipping his hand into his boxers to relieve his strained cock. He remembered well his movement catching Dean’s attention, being terrified for a split second that his big brother would snap at him, call him sick and kick him out. But he hadn’t. Instead he'd locked eyes with Sam, looking utterly wrecked as he licked his lips, shooting him a sly smile. Dean continued to slowly roll his hips, the girl beneath him moaning like a porn star, her fingernails digging into his well-defined back muscles. Sam came hard after that. And from then on, when Dean was feeling particularly horny, he’d been able to convince his big brother to let him watch. There was a lot of begging and pouting involved, obviously, but it was well worth it to see Dean come.

 

Biting back a moan, Sam didn’t even stop to think before he grabbed ahold of Dean’s sides, pressing his cheek against his right hip bone. As he nuzzled against Dean’s hot, wet skin, he couldn’t help but smirk when he felt a shiver pass through his older brother’s body. He could see Dean’s erection through his sweatpants, taking solace in the fact that his big brother was just as turned on as he was.

 

Sam wanted to touch him so bad. He wanted to yank down Dean’s sweats and suck his dick like he was getting paid for it.

 

“…Yes…I want that, fuck I do, but…”

 

“But what, Sam? Use your words,” Dean chastised, making Sam feel like he was five all over again.

 

“But I want you to fuck me more.”

 

The words came rushing out of Sam’s mouth in an excited/terrified jumble. He knew he wasn’t supposed to say things like that. It was one thing for Dean to fuck someone while Sam watched, a little messed up but Dean could justify it by not ever physically touching his little brother. So they got off in the same room because of what the other was doing? It wasn’t the same as full on plowing your younger brother with reckless abandon.

 

“Sam, we can’t. That should’ve never happened. I took advantage of you, I was so wrong to do that. Jesus, you probably don’t even remember half of it.”

 

The hurt, conflicted tone of Dean’s voice sent a sharp pain through Sam’s heart, his grip tightening on his brother’s hips as he tried to back away.

 

And while it was true that Sam’s memory of that night was stretchy at best, he remembered the important parts. He remembered needing Dean and being needed. That’s all that mattered to him. Besides, Sam wasn’t delusional or naïve. He knew first times, 9 times out of 10, weren’t magical or special like people romanticized them to be. They were awkward, fumbley, and over faster than you could say “oh baby that feels good.”

 

So the fact that Sam had shared such an experience with the one person he trusted more than anyone, Dean taking care of him and making his first time as enjoyable as possible, was a blessing. Granted, he might not have achieved full on blushing virgin status due to the obscene amount of liquor that was flowing through his veins at the time but he didn’t care. He had no regrets. And he wished his big brother didn’t either.

 

“I remember enough, Dean!” Sam said urgently, looking up at the older boy like he hung the moon. And as far as Sam was concerned, he did. “I remember the way you kissed me breathless, took your time with me, made me feel so fucking good. Remember how you held me down, fucked me like you owned me, the way your fingernails dug into my skin, marked me, made me yours.”

 

“Goddamn it, Sammy.”

 

Dean hands found their way into Sam’s tangled, sweaty hair, the older boy’s stomach muscles flexing under the soft kisses that his little brother was pressing to his abdomen.

 

“You’re only sixteen, man…Where’d you learn to talk like that?” Dean asked, his tone harsh enough to get Sam’s attention just before his head was being yanked back, hazel eyes meeting green ones.

 

Smirking, Sam knew in the back of his mind that he shouldn’t be so proud of himself for making Dean jealous but he couldn’t bother to care about that right now. Not when Dean was looking at him so heatedly, fingers threaded in his hair tight enough to cause a bead of pre-cum to leak down the shaft of his painfully hard cock.

 

“Just cause I’m sixteen doesn’t mean I don’t fantasize about what I want you to do to me…What I want to do to you.”

 

“Jesus, kid. You can’t say shit like that.”

 

“Why, Dean?” Sam questioned in a coy tone. “Cause it drives you crazy to hear your baby brother talking dirty?

 

When Dean let out a broken moan, Sam felt a sick twinge of pleasure shoot through his body, loving that he had the ability to make his older brother lose control. He pressed hot messy kisses to Dean’s stomach, goosebumps forming on his freckled skin when Sam ran his fingernail across his hip bones. He slid his hands down Dean’s thighs, tugging gently at his sweatpants until his waist was completely exposed, light brown, untamed pubic hair peeking out over the elastic band.

 

“Sammy, please…We can’t.”

 

There it was. The guilt. The reason Dean and he had been so distant with each other lately. Sam could tell Dean felt like he’d robbed Sam of his innocence, yet another reason he _hated_ it when his brother treated him like a child.

 

Sam wasn’t some unsuspecting, ignorant kid. He wanted Dean just as much as Dean wanted him, if not more. He knew how sex worked, knew it had the potential to be more than just mindless fun. That it could be intimate, passionate. Something that connected to two people deeply. And Sam wanted that with Dean. He wanted it so bad he could barely function.

 

“C’mon, Dee. Please.”

 

It was cruel and manipulative, using his brother’s inability to say no to him to his advantage but Sam was desperate.

 

“Need you inside me, wanna hear you say my name as you pound my ass, fill me nice and full with your cum,” Sam moaned before leaning down to mouth at his brother’s clothed erection.

 

“Fuck, Sammy…I, I can’t. It’s not right.”

 

Sitting up abruptly, Sam locked eyes with Dean, cheeks flushing red with anger when he saw what was unmistakably pity in his brother’s eyes. Jesus! Why couldn’t Dean get it through his thick skull that he wasn’t the bad guy here? It was Sam. Always pushing, pulling, asking everything of Dean without offering anything in return.

 

“You know what? Fine.”

 

If Dean insisted on treating Sam like a petulant child, he might as well start acting like one. Shoving his brother away from him with as much force as he could muster, Sam quickly got up from the bed, avoiding eye contact.

 

“Sam, don’t be like that,” Dean sighed, grabbing him by the elbow before he could even take two steps.

 

“Don’t be like what?!”

 

Sam was so angry that he was shaking. He couldn’t believe Dean had the nerve to stand there and preach about what was right and wrong when he’d been a womanizing pig for the majority of his life. Dean lied, cheated, and stole. He’d even killed. And it was just semantics to Sam that his big brother’s kills weren’t human. Dean had still committed his fair share of sins. What the fuck was one more? Especially when them being together would bring light to Sam’s life. A bright light to the dark void of chaos that Sam felt like he was sinking deeper and deeper into as he aged.

 

“… _Sammy_.”

 

“No! Just don’t, Dean. If you don’t want me, I’ll go find someone who does,” Sam seethed, yanking his arm out of his brother’s grip.

 

He was trying so desperately not to cry. Sam was mad, overwhelmed, and couldn’t figure out for the life of him why Dean didn’t want him. They were made for each other. Two halves of a whole. There was no Sam without Dean and Sam knew, he knew deep in his heart, that there was no Dean without Sam.

 

“What the _fuck_ did you just say?”

 

And now it’s Dean’s turn to be pissed. Which in turn made Sam disgustingly happy, considering that was the reaction he was hoping for.

 

“I said, if you won’t fuck me, I’ll find someone who will. You know, I think I’ll go to that bar down the street. I’ve got a fake ID and the Winchester charm on my side. Maybe I’ll meet some hot guy in a leather jacket with gorgeous green eyes who’ll help me work out my daddy issues?”

 

Cause that’s what this was all about, right? Or at least what Dean was trying to make it about. No, Sam couldn’t just want his big brother because he was the most amazing person he’d ever known. It had to be because Sam was confused. No fault of his own, of course. John and Dean had fucked him up to hear Dean tell it. Sam was just the poor little kid who had to suffer through the horror show that was their lives.

 

“Shut your mouth, Sam.”

 

“No. What’s the matter, big brother? You don’t want me but no else can have me either? Fuck that. I’m horny, and so tired of being treated like a child. So I’m gonna go find some guy who can’t wait to be inside me. Who’s so fucking eager to split me open with his dick that he’d bend me over anywhere and just take me.”

 

Before Sam could blink, Dean’s right fist collided with his mouth, busting his bottom lip wide open.

 

“You think I’d just sit back and let some random douche bag off the street fuck _my_ little brother? You wanna leave this room, Sammy? Then you gotta go through me.”

 

Sam didn’t bother responding with words. They were so far past that it wasn’t even funny. Instead he closed his fist, delivering a quick grab to Dean’s gut, doubling the older boy over.

 

“I hate you!” Sam yelled, letting out a surprised gasp of pain when Dean suddenly tackled him onto the closest bed.

 

He instinctively flailed both his arms and legs, unable to stop himself from having a slight panic attack when Dean straddled his hips. Because while Sam was strong, and definitely able to hold his own in a fight, Dean never failed to whoop his ass.

 

Punches rained down on Sam’s face, his brother pinning him to the bed with his strong, muscular body, conditioned by years of hunting.

 

“I hate everything about you! I hate the way you make me feel!”

 

The hateful words kept spilling out of Sam’s mouth as he threw a couple punches of his own. He could feel blood trickling down his chin, his right eye already beginning to swell.

 

“You’re a liar.”

 

Dean had stopped hitting him. Pinning Sam’s arms above his head so he couldn’t continue his assault either. It was so infuriating. Sam just wanted to be Dean’s equal and here he was, struggling, helpless beneath his big brother, unable to hold his own.

 

“Sell that soap to someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do. You can lie to everyone else, Sammy, but not to me. Not to your big brother.”

 

“…I…I wish I could hate you. You make me feel so…”

 

Sam couldn’t even finish his thought. Mainly because he didn’t have words to describe how Dean made him feel. He was always faced with a whirl wind of emotions when it came to Dean.

 

“I know, Sam…I just…I wanna do right by you.”

 

Hearing Dean’s confession made Sam go lax beneath him. Their breath was coming out in ragged, sharp gasps, chests heaving as Dean gingerly rolled off of Sam and onto his back.

 

“Dean. You have. You taught me what it means to be a good man. Not dad, you,” Sam reassured the older boy lying next to him. He was hesitant at first, but after a few minutes of silence, Sam turned onto his side, gently rubbing Dean’s chest.

 

“…You…you really wanna go off and let some guy fuck you? …Cause…you, you’re right, Sammy. You ain’t a kid. It ain’t my place to say you can’t go get some. Especially when I’ve never once hesitated to do the same.”

 

Dean’s voice was so vulnerable, completely foreign to Sam. He’d never heard his brother sound so insecure. Not even in his darkest, most emotional moment. It was raw, exposed and it felt equivalent to having Sam’s heart ripped out of his chest.

 

“No, Dean, God no. I…I was just trying to make you mad. Don’t ever want anyone but you.”

 

It was true. Terrifying but true. Sam never wanted to give himself to anybody but Dean. Never wanted to have that bond with anyone but his big brother.

 

“Why? I don’t fucking understand, Sam. Why would you want someone like me?”

 

“Cause you’re perfect, Dean. You keep me safe, and you belong to me. _My_ big brother,” Sam explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Shifting himself upward, he straddled Dean’s hips, softly massaging his chest.

 

He leaned down, peppering kisses all over Dean’s face, trailing them down to the side of his neck. Sam sucked on the sensitive skin playfully, pleased with himself when he heard Dean moan beneath him.

 

“It’s true, Sammy. I’m yours.”

 

Sam’s breath hitched in his throat. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. However, before he could respond or even process the information, Dean was flipping him onto his back, kissing him like a man possessed. He grabbed a handful of Sam’s hair, biting and sucking feverishly at the younger boy’s swollen lips.

 

 

“M’yours too, Dean. Body and soul,” Sam gasped between rough sloppy kisses.

 

God, he sounded like a girl. He was honestly surprised that his words had gotten him more kisses, Dean’s body rutting against his a little harder. Sam figured his big brother would have been howling with laughter by now. After all, Dean Winchester didn’t do chick flick moments.

 

“Oh, I know, baby boy.”

 

Hearing the nickname was like a shot of adrenaline to his system. It made Sam’s blood burn with desire, his cock throbbing profusely, trapped between Dean and the fabric of his pajama pants.

 

“That’s why I’m gonna give you what you want,” Dean purred, sliding his hand down Sam’s stomach to his crotch, teasingly palming at his erection.

 

“Dean, please…don’t mess with me.”

 

Sam couldn’t take that kind of let down. To have something he wanted so desperately, only to find that his brother was playing with him. He just couldn’t handle it. Sam needed Dean in the worst way.

 

“I’m not messing with you, little brother. You can have me, all of me.”

 

Dean tugged at Sam’s shirt, silently asking him to sit up to which he complied. And once the fabric was discarded on the floor somewhere to their left, Dean began to trail searing hot kisses down Sam’s chest.

 

“Dee, please, please.”

 

Reaching the waistline of Sam’s pajama pants, Dean maneuvered himself to lie comfortably between the younger boy’s legs, gently running his fingers across his bare stomach.

 

“Please what, Sammy? What is it that you want?” Dean asked in a husky tone as he pulled down Sam’s pajamas slightly, exposing his left hip. “You’ve got me where you want me, baby boy. I think it’s time I heard about some of those fantasies of yours in detail.”

 

Dean’s voice was like lava. Smoldering hot, rapidly spreading over Sam’s skin, and completely destroying everything in its path. And when Sam felt his mouth, warm, wet, and perfect sucking at his hip bone, creating a large, reddish, purple hickey, he nearly lost his mind.

 

“Want you…Dean, please.”

 

“Mm, that just won’t do, Sammy. I gotta know what you want specifically. Tell me, baby, and it’s yours.”

 

Fuck, this was difficult. Sam didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Dean. It was one thing to spout off about their first time together but this was so very different. This was real. They were both sober, and Dean was completely engaged. He couldn’t deny that he felt a huge amount of pressure to do well. After all, what he said would affect his big brother. Dean was counting on Sam’s words to get him going, to keep him in the mood. He didn’t want to ruin this for him.

 

“Want those pretty lips wrapped around my cock, Dee. Fuck, that mouth was made for it.”

 

Running his fingers through Dean’s short hair, Sam closed his eyes for a moment, relief crashing over him like a tidal wave when he heard his brother moan.

 

“You want my mouth on you, baby boy? Then that’s what you’ll get.”

 

Dean didn’t hesitate to pull down his pants, the material quickly joining his shirt on the floor, leaving Sam in nothing but his boxers. He placed his sweaty palms flat against Sam’s thighs, massaging the meaty flesh as he nosed at the hard outline of his cock.

 

“Dean!”

 

His big brother was smiling now, visibly relaxed. This was _his_ Dean. Easy going, fun loving. And Sam would have reveled in the sight, had he not been hard enough to cut glass with his dick.

 

“Easy, Sammy. I’ll take care of you, you know that,” Dean laughed as he rolled off the bed, earning a needy whine from his little brother.

 

Propping himself up on his elbows, Sam watched in exasperation while Dean calmly sauntered across the room. His destination was the duffle bag he kept his belongings in, keeling down to unzip the large blue tote. Sam found himself craning his neck to get a better look as Dean rummaged through the contents of the bag, eventually producing a box of condoms and a bottle of raspberry lube. Taking a single condom out of the box, Dean then stood up and returned to his spot between Sam’s legs, letting out a loud, melodious laugh when he saw his brother eyeing the lube suspiciously.

 

“Don’t give me that look, brat. Chicks dig this shit.”

 

Oh. Of course Dean had flavored lube because of a girl. Sam let out a puff of air through his mouth as he lay back down on the bed. He knew he shouldn’t be jealous about something so stupid. He’d watch his brother fuck other people, for Christ’s sake.

 

“Hey, Sammy. That doesn’t matter though, cause I’m here with you,” Dean cooed as he gently tugged off Sam’s boxers.

 

Sam’s cock was strained; slick with pre-cum, curled up to his belly and desperate for attention but that didn’t stop him from registering Dean’s words. Dean was there. He was focused on Sam. On what Sam needed.

 

“I know, Dee. _Please_.”

                                                    

Finally taking pity on his brother, Dean grabbed the bottle of lube, popping open the cap to pour a generous amount of the liquid in his palm. When he was satisfied, he then closed the bottle, setting it to the side before slowly wrapping his lube slick hand around Sam’s cock. First, Dean gave his little brother’s erection a of couple quick tugs, relieving some of the pent up frustration that had settled in Sam’s gut. And once Sam had relaxed under Dean’s touch, the older boy’s motions slowed; the stroke of his hand long and deliberate. With his other hand, Dean cupped Sam’s balls, earning a filthy moan from the boy beneath him when he gave his cock another stroke, twisting the head gently as he finished the movement.

 

“… _Dean_ , not gonna last…Hurry, please.”

 

Sam’s body was humming with pleasure. And he felt a warm, euphoric feeling creeping into his gut. Dean’s hands were seriously magical.

 

“Pushy little brat.”

 

His big brother’s voice was full of humor. Any smartass reply Sam had meant to throw back at him caught in the sixteen year old’s throat when he felt Dean’s tongue circle around the head of his cock. He started off small, kitten licks to the slit, before running his tongue up the length, causing Sam to buck his hips off the mattress.

 

“Oh fuck, fuck.”

 

Sam’s hands instinctively went to Dean’s hair, fingernails scrapping against his scalp. When Dean took him into his mouth, Sam screamed his name, pushing his big brother further down around his cock. Dean’s hands were firmly planted on his hips, pinning him to the mattress, bruising his fair skin. He heard Dean gag, but was unable to open his eyes, the sensation too good, too perfect for him to release his grip on the back of his brother’s head.

 

And then suddenly, it was as though the whole world was in slow motion. Sam could feel everything. The way Dean’s tongue was dancing around the underside of his cock, his fingers digging into Sam’s flesh, the delicious, slippery feeling of his big brother’s throat flexing, trying to take him deeper.

 

“Oh God, Dean!”

 

Sam came embarrassingly fast. And so hard that his vision went fuzzy, shooting his load down the back of Dean’s throat. He arched his hips up off the bed once again, his big brother continuing to suck his cock. Working him through his orgasm until he was drained and sensitive to the touch. He kept his fingers securely woven in Dean’s hair, unable to hold back a whine when his brother finally pulled off him with a loud wet pop.

 

Honestly, Sam couldn’t believe how amazing orgasms felt. He was so warm, relaxed, like he was floating. He could definitely understand someone being addicted to this feeling. Sex addicts knew what they were talking about, man.

 

“How ya feelin’, baby boy?” Dean asked, voice rough, fucked out beyond recognition. His eyes were dark, hooded with lust, barely a hit of green visible as he stared up at Sam, cum and saliva dripping down his chin.

 

He looked _gorgeous_. Short brown hair a mess, smooth freckled skin flushed and pouring sweat. He was panting, muscles taut, that smile that made Sam weak in the knees plastered to his pouty swollen lips.

 

Damn. He didn’t know how it was possible, but just the sight of Dean like this, high on pleasure, made Sam’s cock stir.

 

“Feel ‘mazing, Dee,” Sam replied, giving his brother a sheepish grin as he massaged the base of his skull with his fingertips. “Think ya broke me though.”

 

Chuckling, Dean carefully shimmied his way up Sam’s body in order to pull him into a passionate, and equally desperate, kiss. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s back, their bodies sticking together with sweat, both of them refusing to let the other go.

 

“Sorry bout earlier, Sammy. Should have known I’d never be able to say no to you,” Dean apologized, panting into Sam’s mouth. “You got me whipped, kid.”

 

Sam shouldn’t have smiled at that. Shouldn’t have loved the fact that Dean was wrapped around his finger. That Dean was his, fully, without question. But he did.

 

“S’okay, Dee. I don’t blame you for tryin’ to set me straight.”

 

And he really didn’t. Dean was his big brother. Of course he was going to attempt to put him on the right path every time. Even if that path wasn’t the one Dean wanted him to be on.

 

“I just wanna look out for ya, Sammy. You’re my baby brother, care bout ya, you know?”

 

Whoa. This was new. And judging by the look of anxiety on Dean’s face, the situation was just as uncomfortable for him as it was for Sam. Not that Sam had a problem with Dean talking about his feelings, cause truth be told, he’d love it if his brother would take some Ex-Lax for his emotional constipation. It was just he didn’t think now was the appropriate time for Dean to get all sentimental, not when he could feel his big brother’s erection pressed firmly against his thigh.

 

“Yeah, I know, man. I care about you too,” Sam replied after a short pause, letting his hand wonder down to Dean’s waistband.

 

He used his index and middle finger to gently caress Dean’s skin, nuzzling his cheek against his big brother’s stubbly chin.

 

“ _Sammy_.”

 

And just like that, Sam was excited again, his cock starting to harden once more. Maybe being a teenaged boy did have its perks?

 

“Want you to fuck me, Dee. Spread me wide and make me come on that big dick of yours.”

 

In response to Sam’s plea, Dean let out would could only be interpreted as a growl before he yanked his little brother upward, kissing him roughly.

 

“Get on your hands and knees.”

 

It wasn’t a request. It was Dean letting Sam know from that point on, he was in control, he called the shots. And Sam can’t deny that his big brother’s dominant side sent a shiver of pleasure up his spine.

 

Sitting up, Sam crawled forward, getting on his hands and knees like Dean had instructed so that he was facing the motel door. Bare ass exposed to his brother. He was half hard by then, skin sizzling with anticipation when he heard the creak of the old mattress springs under Dean’s weight, saw his sweatpants being tossed to the floor. 

Sam had to resist the very really urge to look behind him though; knowing all too well that he shouldn’t do anything Dean hadn’t instructed him to.

 

“You gonna scream for me, baby boy?”

 

Dean’s hands were flat against his back, sliding downward to massage the curve of his ass. His thumbs worked at the delicate skin, sending goosebumps shooting across Sam’s body. Dean’s hands were torture. Blissful, unyielding torture.

 

“Yeah, anything for you, Dee. I’ll do anything you want.”

 

Sam had barely gotten the words out before Dean’s palm landed flat against his right ass cheek, a sharp, sweet sensation pulsing through his entire body. He could feel the outline of Dean’s handprint starting to form on his skin, the mark throbbing and heated. And it wasn’t a second later before his big brother delivered another blow, close to the area he’d just smacked but not quite in the same place.

 

“Good boy.”

 

Sam’s toes curled, fingers gripping the worn motel blanket beneath him as Dean traced the marks with his fingers gently. He vividly remembered his big brother spanking him the first time they’d ever had sex. Remembered enjoying the feeling so much he had thought he might come just from Dean’s hand forceful and heavy against his backside.

 

“Dean, please! Please!”

 

Smack, smack, smack. Dean was relentless. Knowing just how to rile Sam up, to rile himself up. They were both breathing heavily again, the room filled with the smell of sweat, that scent that was just 100% distinctive to a man, and a mixture of their colognes. To an outsider, it probably would have been gross, but to Sam, it was heavenly. The odor of his brother and him twisted together in a tangy, sweet fusion. Just like their lives were, and their souls.

 

Sam lost track of how many times Dean spanked him. All he knew was that his ass had to be all marked up. It was throbbing just as hard as his dick. He knew Dean’s hand had to be red too, the force of his blows taking a toll on both of them.

 

“Oh, baby, I’ve gotta say, your ass if a thing of beauty regardless, but when it’s such a nice, bright red color from my hand…”

 

Dean was unable to finish his thought when both Sam and he failed to hold back a moan. Sam enjoyed the spanking, but what he really got off on was his big brother’s excitement. Knowing that Dean thought his body was just as magnificent as he thought Dean’s was.

 

“You’re so desperate for my dick, ain’t cha little brother?” the older boy asked, Sam suddenly feeling his breath hot against the raised skin on his right ass cheek. His big brother’s tongue flicked over the abused skin, causing Sam to involuntarily buck his hips, a rumble of thunder in the distance drowning out his broken pleas.

 

“What’s that, baby boy? I didn’t quite hear you.”

 

Dean was having fun. Torturing Sam and loving every minute of it.

 

“Yes, Dean! Need you so bad, _please_!”

 

When Sam heard the cap pop open on the lube, he almost shouted hallelujah. His cock was rock hard again, leaking pre-cum all over the bedsheets underneath him. And when Dean finally slipped his index finger, dripping with the liquid, inside Sam’s ass, it was all he could do not to blow his wad right there.

 

“Mm, you love that, don’t ya Sammy?”

 

Dean was gently circling his finger around Sam’s tight hole, taking his time. His free hand was gripping his little brother’s left ass cheek hard enough to make bruises, holding him in place. All of the sensations Sam was feeling were hard to comb through, difficult to discover where one ended and the other began. He felt horny. That was a given. But he also felt sated from the mind blowing orgasm Dean had given him earlier. His body was mellow with pleasure but also very much alive with pain. Sam enjoyed the way Dean’s finger felt in his ass, stretching him wide, but at the same time there was a dull ache, just at the edge of his senses that he didn’t care for at all.

 

“Oh holy fuck, Dee!”

 

A burst of pleasure erupted through Sam’s body when Dean crooked his finger, massaging the sensitive little bundle of nerves inside him.

 

“There is it, baby boy,” Dean purred before leaning down, tongue joining his index finger in Sam’s ass.

 

He licked Sam’s rim, working at the ring of muscle with his mouth while he pumped his finger in and out of the younger boy’s hole agonizingly slow. So overwhelmed with need, Sam didn’t stop to think before he reached backward, grabbing his big brother’s head, pushing Dean’s face further into his ass. Dean let out a frustrated grunt, nipping at Sam’s hole before pulling back to smack his ass with his free hand.

 

“Next time you move without my permission, you’ll be punished. I’m in charge here, baby boy. You are in control of every aspect of my life, but I get this.”

 

“M’sorry, Dee, I promise I’ll be good for you. You’re in control, when we’re like this, you own me.”

 

“That’s my boy,” Dean said as he added a second finger to Sam’s ass.

 

Sam could hear the pride in his voice, knew he was probably smiling and that filled him with happiness. He just wanted to be good for Dean. To be enough for his big brother.

 

“Fuck, right there, Dee! Please do that again.”

 

Dean’s fingers continued to drill Sam’s prostate, the sensation making him lightheaded, teetering on the edge. And when a third finger slipped inside him, Sam had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from whining, knuckles white around the blanket as his brother fucked him with his fingers.

 

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this, Sammy…and you have no idea.”

 

Dean’s voice sounded distance, dreamy, but his touch was firm, lips warm against Sam’s lower back. His free hand ran up Sam’s spine, fingernails creating long red scratches over his shoulder blades, down his neck.

 

“Dean, please fuck me? Please? I need you so bad!”

 

Sam was a babbling mess by the time Dean finally decided to remove his fingers. He could feel his thigh muscles trembling as his brother reached for the condom he’d laid on the mattress near the foot of the bed, lube seeping out of his stretched hole and down the back of his legs. The sound of the wrapper made Sam’s cock twitch, Dean’s calloused hand on his left hip steadying him.

 

He could feel the head of Dean’s cock pressed against his hole. His brother was still teasing him. Sam honest to God wanted to scream. But he knew he couldn’t, knew not to do anything that would result in Dean toying with him further.

 

“So good for me, baby boy, patient, even though I know you’re going crazy for it,” Dean breathed out in the most sinful of tones. He pushed into Sam a little bit, inching his way passed the tight muscles at a maddeningly slow pace until he bottomed out.

 

And Sam couldn’t deny that the process hurt. A tidbit he did not remember from his first time, thankfully. Guess that was the wonders of alcohol. Regardless of their previous indiscretion, however, his brother was huge, and even with all that preparation, it still burned like a motherfucker. But once Dean was inside him, it was like Sam had found the missing fucking link.

 

“How ya doin’, Sammy? Not hurtin’ ya, am I?”

 

Dean’s hands were at his sides, tenderly rubbing, petting, making sure Sam knew he was safe. Releasing his grip on the blanket, Sam flexed his fingers, letting out a deep breath as he adjusted to the feeling of his brother’s cock inside him. He felt so full, like it was too much but not enough all at the same time.

 

A steady hand combed through his hair, Dean’s weight suddenly holding him down, pinning him to the mattress.

 

“Gotta talk to me, little brother. You okay?” Dean whispered in his ear, their bodies molded together, chest to back, tangled in a sweaty mess.

 

“Yeah, yeah, m’good, Dee. Want you to move.”

 

Sam braced himself on his elbows, Dean’s left hand tangled in his hair as the older boy pulled out of him almost completely before thrusting his hips forward with purpose. Screaming his big brother’s name, Sam could only close his eyes and feel as Dean began to pound into him, the sound of wet skin slapping together filling the small, dimly lit room.

 

“That feel good, baby boy? You like taking your big brother’s cock like this?”

 

Dean’s lips were hot and wet against his neck, kissing and sucking, leaving hickies in their wake. Moaning, Sam reached behind him with his right hand, pulling Dean into an uncoordinated, sloppy kiss. Saliva and sweat dripped down their faces as Dean continued to fuck Sam, his cock drilling his little brother’s prostate with each thrust.

 

“Fe-els so g-ood, Dee. Woul-d bend ove-r fo- you any-where.”

 

“Mm, I know you would, Sammy. Such a slut for my cock.”

 

Sam let out a wanton sound, clenched around Dean’s dick. It was so true. He was a damn dirty slut for Dean. Wanted his big brother inside him constantly, filling him so full. Maybe Dean would even get him a plug? That way when he came in Sam’s ass he could savor it. Bask in the feeling of his brother’s come inside him, a signature of who owned his tight little ass.

 

A loud clap of thunder shook Sam from his fantasy, eyes immediately darting to the door in a panic. Feeling Sam jump slightly, Dean went stock-still, breathing harshly as he relaxed against his little brother’s back, following his line of sight to the door.

 

It was stupid of Sam, really. John wasn’t due back for another three days and it wasn’t like a maid walking in on them would be any big deal. He just didn’t want to lose this, not when he’d just coaxed Dean out of his shell.

 

“Hey, it’s okay, baby brother,” Dean sighed into his matted hair. “What’s the matter? ‘Fraid dad is gonna come home early and catch us?”

 

It was meant to be a joke. Dean was good at that. Turning his real life insecurities into a punchline. But the thing was, Sam wasn’t scared of John catching them. At least not for the reasons he should've been. He didn’t give a damn if that asshole knew they were fucking, honestly, he’d like to rub it in his face. He just didn’t want Dean to suffer for it, for dad to be disappointed in him, especially knowing his love and respect were the two things his big brother wanted most in life.

 

“No, don’t give a rat’s ass if he catches us,” Sam retorted as Dean began to rock his hips, delivering sharp, deep thrusts. “Want him to walk in right now, see who I belong to, who I’m loyal to.”

 

“Oh fuck, _Sammy_.”

 

Dean’s movements became more sporadic, right arm wrapping around the front of Sam’s neck, holding him firmly in place. And even though Sam probably should have been panicking, his body just wouldn’t react.

 

“You belong to me, don’t you, baby brother? You’d do anything for me? You love me.”

 

Dean’s arm constricted around his throat, making it hard for him to catch his breath. He felt lightheaded, cock so painfully hard it sent a chill up his spine. He was sore, pleasure and pain attacking his senses as Dean pounded his ass without mercy.

 

“Yes! I’m yours! Love you so fucking much!”

 

Sam was just as surprised as Dean when he came without even being touched, cum spurting all over the sheets and his stomach as if someone had just shot off a bottle rocket. Unlike the first time when his vision had gone fuzzy but immediately restored itself, Sam was more than positive he blacked out, coming to as Dean sank his teeth into his left shoulder.

 

“FUCK!”

 

Sam couldn’t say he didn’t like the sensation, because he did. He just wished Dean would have given him some warning. With his shoulder throbbing, he pushed back against Dean as his older brother emptied his load in Sam’s ass before collapsing onto top of him in a sweaty heap.

 

It took Sam several minutes to gather his wits, snapping back to reality when he felt Dean pull out of him and roll to the side. He lay face down on the mattress, body overworked but well rewarded as Dean got up, tying off the condom and throwing into the trash can. Sam watched with mild curiosity, following the older boy’s movements until he disappeared into the bathroom, resurfacing a few seconds later with a wet wash rag, a bottle of lotion, glass of water, and a tube of Neosporin.

 

“Need you to sit up for me, baby boy.”

 

Sam groaned in protest as Dean sat the items in his hands down on the table between the two beds. The last thing he wanted to do was move. But if Dean needed it, then he was going to do it.

 

“That’s it, Sammy, nice and slow.”

 

Dean helped Sam up, positioning his back against the headboard, pillow fluffed to perfection behind him. And once Sam was settled, Dean handed him the glass of water, telling him to sip it slowly while he wiped the sweat and other impurities off of his little brother’s face with the wash rag.

 

“You…definitely broke me.”

 

Sam smiled when his commented earned a chuckled from Dean. He sipped his water as Dean sat down the cloth to grab the Neosporin, climbing over Sam to put a thick coat of the substance on the open wound on his shoulder.

 

“Is that something you do often? Like with chicks?”

 

He shouldn’t have asked, Sam knew that, but he wanted to know about his brother’s kinks. Hell, he just wanted to know about his brother. Every little thing that made Dean tick.

 

“…Yeah…I’m really into it. Shit, Sam, I’m sorry. I should have asked you before I did it.”

 

“Dude, no, it’s cool! I liked it. Seriously. I was just wondering.”

 

Finishing off his water, Sam sat the glass on the table before turning to face Dean once more. He could see the guilt starting to creep back into his brother’s eyes, instantly wanting to smack it out of him.

 

“Dean, I liked it. I wouldn’t lie to you. I liked that and I liked the spanking. I even liked it when you choked me.”

 

Lowering his head in defeat, Dean let out a sigh, his hand absentmindedly stroking Sam’s thigh. He was sure Dean was more upset that he was “corrupting” his little brother than he was about not asking Sam if he could bite him, but he kept his mouth shut. After all, Dean couldn’t ruin an already tarnished canvas, so why not let him paint?

 

“Lay on your stomach for me, Sammy.”

 

Feeling a jolt of excitement streak through his body, Sam complied, gingerly turning to lie face down on the mattress. He felt Dean shift forward, saw his brother grab the lotion and pop open the cap, drizzling a little in his hand before sitting it back down. The cool substance was a shock when he felt it spread across his right ass cheek, dulling the burning sensation he felt from the spanking and the heat.

 

“Thanks, feels nice,” Sam whispered, relaxing as Dean rubbed the lotion into his skin with care.

 

“Course, Sammy.”

 

“Hey, Dee? Can we still go see fireworks tonight? You know, if they don’t get rained out?”

 

A yawn escaped his lips before he could stop it. Sam was fighting to remain conscious, eyes drooping closed only for him to snap them back open. He was so comfortable, sated, and above all, safe. Dean was there, taking care of him, protecting him. Nothing could hurt Sam while his big brother was around.

 

“Yeah, man. Just rest for now. I’ll wake you up in about an hour and we can go see what kinda trouble we can get into.”

 

Dean was lying next to him now, hand resting on the small of his back. He could feel his big brother’s breath hot against his neck, smell tiny traces of cologne, leather, and cigarette smoke. A scent that was so very Dean. It smelt wild, alluring, but mostly it smelt like home.

 

“…Thank you, Dean. I know I can be stubborn sometimes but I really do think you’re the best big brother anyone could ever have.”

 

The words were jumbled, sleep induced but Sam could have sworn he heard Dean laugh. Just like he could have sworn he heard his big brother whisper, “Rest now, Sammy. I’ll be here when you wake up…I love you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have an editor for my work so please forgive any mistakes! Enjoy!

Things between Sam and Dean were weird with a capital W. They had maintained a sexual relationship since the fourth of July, an active, fucking fantastic sexual relationship, but everything else had gone to shit. Dean barely talked to Sam now. Could barely look at him. And worst of all? He’d stopped touching Sam. Those little touches Sam used to crave, Dean patting him on the shoulder, nudging him with his elbow, ruffling his hair, they were all gone. Hell, his big brother wouldn’t even initiate sex. Sam had to come to him. Of course, once they got going the sex was utterly amazing but Sam hated that Dean never pursued him. That he was never so desperate for Sam that he could hardly breathe; that he thought he might explode if he didn’t have his brother right then and there. Because Sam felt that way about Dean. Needed his big brother like he needed water, air. And it hurt like a motherfucker to know the feeling was not mutual.

 

Regardless, for the first couple of months, Sam was inclined to go with the flow. He told himself Dean just needed some time to cope with the situation. After all, Sam had forced Dean’s hand. If he hadn’t manipulated his big brother into fucking him that night, Dean would have **never** made a move on his own. Not sober at least. So Sam tried to wait it out. Tried to enjoy the copious amount of sex that came with his big brother’s silent treatment, and he pretended like Dean wasn’t breaking his heart.

 

However, when five months passed and Dean was still ignoring him, Sam snapped. He told Dean that if being with him was so awful, made him feel so bad that he couldn’t even look Sam in the eyes afterward, that he should just end it. Dean, of course, didn’t say anything, just sat there with a stunned look on his face like he hadn’t been tearing Sam’s heart out repeatedly and eating it like a werewolf on a full moon for the last five months. Typical. Dean Winchester was the smartest person Sam knew, but also the dumbest. In any case, Sam couldn’t stand there and watch his brother’s shock turn to pity, he just couldn’t. Instead he turned on his heels, storming out of the room, and vowed to himself that he wouldn’t make another move on his brother. If Dean wanted to be with him, he’d have to come to Sam. He was done being the needy little brother. And he was done hating himself for feeling like he’d forced Dean into a sexual relationship.

 

**********

**January 24 th 2000**

In typical John Winchester fashion, the old man was off on a hunt instead of where he truly needed to be. It was his oldest son’s 21st birthday, and he was out tracking a vamp’s nest rather than celebrating with Dean. And what pissed Sam off the most was that he was more pissed off than Dean. His big brother idealized that asshole and yet, when John called and said he wouldn’t be able to make it home for Dean’s birthday, he just smiled and told dad to give em’ hell.

 

Ugh. Sam would never understand the blind faith Dean had in their father. Honestly, it made him cringe to know that Dean cared so deeply for that bastard. Especially when Sam loved him so much more, was so much more proud of him than John would ever be. It was Sam who was there for Dean when he needed to talk; Sam who cleaned and bandaged Dean’s wounds when he got back from a hunt; Sam who watched bad daytime television with Dean while they filled up on junk food and soda. Sam was there for Dean when John was nowhere to be found. And still, his big brother loved John. Gave love that should have been Sam’s to their wannabe dad.

 

Fuck. He was jealous. Which pissed him off even more. Being jealous of John Winchester was like trying to cross the Atlantic in a rowboat. Stupid, time consuming, and pointless.

 

Sam involuntarily let out a frustrated grunt, arms folded across his chest as he sat on the floor in front of the TV. He’d been agitated and brooding since he woke up, not saying a word other than to wish Dean a happy birthday.

 

“Heya Sammy! Whaddaya think about me going out and buying us a fuck ton of alcohol? Get my birthday started off right?”

 

The cheerful tone of Dean’s voice startled Sam. He reluctantly looked over his shoulder at his brother who was sitting cross legged on the bed opposite his. The older boy was dressed in a pair of blue flannel pajama pants and his favorite AC/DC shirt which was devastatingly wrinkled. The cotton material clung to his torso snugly, one size too small, but he refused to give it up. Dean’s hair was wild, like a tornado had just blown through it; bright green eyes glossy with sleep.

 

And Sam honest to God hated him for being so unbelievable beautiful.

 

“It’s 10:00 a.m., jerk. Don’t you think it’s a bit early to start hitting the sauce?”

 

“C’mon, dude! Day drinking is that best!”

 

Shaking his head, Sam turned his attention back to the television. It made him ridiculously angry that his brother had barely spoken to him in what seemed like forever, but now he was being a regular Chatty Kathy. Life didn’t work like that. No matter how much Dean Winchester wished it were so. You couldn’t just ignore someone one day and be their best friend the next.

 

“Sammy?”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

He hadn’t even realized he was crying until a big, salty tear hit his arm. Jesus, he hated this. Hated how much he didn’t hate Dean. Sam just wanted his big brother back. He wanted things back to the way they were. Before they had started having sex. Sure, the sex was great, and he wanted that part of their relationship too, but mostly he just wanted Dean. And if that meant a strictly platonic relationship, then so be it.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong, little brother?”

 

Dean was by his side in a flash, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Before Sam could stop himself he was sobbing, forehead pressed against Dean’s. The smell of his big brother’s skin, earthy, rich with soap and the faded scent of his cologne filled his nose, calming him, as Dean moved to run his fingers through Sam’s tangled hair.

 

“M’sorry Dee…M’so sorry.”

 

Sam was responsible for this. He’d created the rift between Dean and himself. Regardless of how bad he knew Dean wanted him sexually, he shouldn’t have pushed the issue.

 

“Hey, hey, calm down. Why are you sorry, baby boy?”

 

Dean’s thumbs were rough against his flushed cheeks as he wiped away Sam’s tears. Looking up into his big brother’s eyes, he could tell that Dean was genuinely confused as to why he was apologizing. God, he was perfect. Oblivious as the day was long, but perfect all the same.

 

“Shouldda never pressured you into having sex with me…Knew if I begged you’d give in, and that was wrong. And now you hate me,” Sam blubbered, fists clenching around the fabric of Dean’s shirt.

 

Realization spread across Dean’s face slowly, like Sam was actually watching a light bulb turn on above his big brother’s head.

 

“Oh, Sammy. I could never hate you.”

 

“But you’ve been ignoring me!”

 

“…Sammy…”

 

“You can’t even look me in the eyes!”

 

“That’s cause I’m ashamed of myself, alright?!”

 

Dean was on his feet before Sam could even process the movement. His brother was trembling, ranking a hand down his face in exasperation.

 

“Why are you ashamed? You have nothing to be ashamed about.”

 

“Sammy, we both know that’s not true.”

 

Standing up cautiously, Sam titled his head to the side, eyebrow raised in a questioning manner. What the hell did Dean have to be ashamed of? He was the victim in all this.

 

“You mind sharing with the class, Dean?”

 

Huffing out a laugh, Dean just stared at Sam for a moment. Like his little brother was the only thing he could see. The look was passionate, intense, and it made Sam’s heart jackhammer in his chest.

 

“Sammy, you know the guilt you’ve been feeling? The pain, the nausea feeling in your gut you’ve had from thinking you forced me to do something I didn’t want to? How you feel terrible and selfish because you can’t stand to let what we had go, even though I didn’t like it?” Dean asked, taking Sam’s hands in his.

 

“How-How did you know that?”

 

“Because I feel the exact same way, Sammy. Now, you can stand there, reassuring me that you want to have sex with me until you’re blue in the face. It doesn’t matter. I’m still an adult, and you’re still a child. And I’m terrified that when you’re older, more rational, that you’ll resent me for taking advantage of you. For fucking you up.”

 

“…but you want me? You don’t hate me?”

 

“Jesus Christ, dude. I’m pretty sure you missed my entire fucking point.”

 

Sam had to laugh at that. It was true. All he’d really registered was that his big brother wasn’t mad at him, and that he’d spent the last five month totally misreading the situation.

 

“Listen, I don’t know how else to say this so I’m just gonna be straight with you. You are my everything. You aren’t taking advantage of me because I know what I’m doing, I know what our relationship means and that it’s…messed up in a conventional sense. And I’m telling you right fucking now, Dean Winchester, I could **never** resent you. I love you too fucking much for that.”

 

Wow. That felt amazing. Like a boulder had been lifted off his chest. Sam needed to say that, no matter how Dean processed the information. It had to be said.

 

“…Fuck…Sam, I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me…and me ruining your life by continuing to have sex with you would just be proof.”

 

Sam wasn’t quite sure what possessed him to slap Dean. He didn’t know if it was the way his brother was acting like a goddamn martyr; or maybe because he was practically making a decision that should have been up to Sam; or if it was due to the fact that Dean was so fucking blind he couldn’t even see the amazing person Sam idealized when he saw his reflection in the mirror. Whatever the reason, he put five months of frustration and heartbreak behind that slap, his hand print visible on his brother cheek afterward.

 

“Why can’t you just let yourself be happy, Dean?!” Sam yelled as he shoved his brother who was still holding his face in shock. “I want to be with you, you want to be with me. It’s as simple as that!”

 

“And if things don’t work out between us?”

 

Dean was lightning fast, grabbing Sam by the wrists and yanking him forward. They were face to face now, both staring at each other coldly. It was wrong. Sam felt so wrong. He loved Dean, was so tired of them handling each other so roughly. They were supposed to take care of each other, for Christ’s sake.

 

“We’re brothers, you idiot. Even if we break up, we’ll always have each other. We’re family.”

 

Sam felt Dean’s grip loosen, saw his brother’s expression turn soft. He took a step closer, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist, nuzzling his face against his left pectoral muscle.

 

Dear God, they were stupid.

 

“I just need time to get right with this, Sammy…but I don’t hate you. And I promise, you didn’t forced me into sex. Fuck, I’ve never wanted anyone as bad as I want you,” Dean confessed, right palm flat against Sam’s back as he rubbed circles between his shoulder blades.

 

“You really mean that, Dee?”

 

“Of course I do, baby boy.”

 

“Dee, please tell me you love me, please?”

 

Sam was looking up at his big brother with his best set of puppy dog eyes yet. He knew Dean loved him, there was no doubt in his mind. But he needed to hear it. Dean so rarely spoke the words. Sam knew they were difficult for him to say, although he had no idea why. Perhaps that was _actually_ something he was just too young to understand?

 

“Sam, you know I do. More than anything.”

 

“Say it, Dean, please.”

 

A soft sigh passed through Dean’s lips, his hands coming up to cup both of Sam’s cheeks. They were looking each other in the eyes now, Sam’s heart attempting to beat out of his chest.

 

“I love you, Sammy. More than anything.”

 

Sam wanted to respond, tell his big brother he loved him with all his heart, but before he could form the words Dean was kissing him. He opened his mouth wide, let Dean’s tongue explore, kissing back with everything he had.

 

“ _Dean_ ,” Sam moaned into his big brother’s mouth, strong hands gripping his ass. “I…love you…too…so much…” he gasped between hot sloppy kisses.

 

Pulling away to catch his breath, Dean smiled down at Sam. His lips were glossy with saliva, swollen and downright tantalizing. Sam could seriously kiss them forever.

 

“You’re so gorgeous, Dee.”

 

“Dude!”

 

When his big brother ducked his head, blush spreading across his cheeks, Sam had to bite his tongue to refrain from telling him how precious he looked.

 

“My bad, man. I meant ruggedly handsome.”

 

“Blow me, bitch.”

 

Licking his lips, Sam raised his right eyebrow suggestively, earning a full body laugh from his brother.

 

“Not literally, Sammy. Geez, your mind is in the gutter.”

 

No argument there. Sam was a horny sixteen year old boy after all. Sex, food, sleep, and more sex were pretty much the thoughts running on repeat in his mind.

 

“You have no idea, big brother,” Sam teased as he sank to the floor, hands tugging on Dean’s pajama pants.

 

“Whoa, Sam, you don’t have to, I was just kidding.”

 

Sam worked Dean’s pajama pants and boxers down to his ankles. Running his hands up his big brother exposed thighs, he shot him a wicked grin, fingernails ranking over Dean’s soft flesh.

 

“I know, Dean…but I’d really like to, if you’re okay with it?”

 

Dean didn’t answer right away, and for a brief, terrifying moment Sam thought he was going to say no. But thankfully he didn’t. His consent presented itself in the form of an enthusiastic nod, a goofy smile plastered on his face from ear to ear.

 

“That’s it, little brother, get it nice and wet,” Dean said encouragingly when he saw Sam spit a large wad of salvia into his right palm.

 

High on hearing his big brother sing his praises, Sam wrapped his slick hand around Dean’s flaccid cock, beginning to stroke him lazily.

 

“You’re excited for this, aren’t you, Dee? Bet you can’t wait to have your little brother suck this giant cock of yours.”

 

“Shit, Sam.”

 

Sam could feel his big brother starting to get hard, Dean fucking into his hand, creating more friction. With his free hand, Sam ghosted his fingertips up the inside of Dean’s thigh, causing him to shiver. He tightened his grip a little bit on the older boy’s cock, swiping his thumb over the head periodically to tease him.

 

“You love being inside my mouth, don’t you, big brother? Love how deep I can take you?”

 

Dean let out an animalistic groan when Sam ran his thumb over his balls, tugging at them gently. His big brother’s hands were now on his shoulders, bruises forming under the long curve of his fingers. Not that Sam cared. It was quite the opposite actually. He loved bruises. Loved the way they looked on his skin. Dark, unrelenting marks that served as a reminded that he’d been claimed. That he was Dean’s.

 

“C’mon, baby boy, need you.”

 

Damn. Sam could get used to hearing that. Because while he knew, he _knew_ with every fiber of his being that Dean needed him, it was really fucking nice to hear it every now and again.

 

Leaning forward, Sam licked the head of Dean’s fully hard cock. He wrapped his lips around it, sucking gently, savoring the taste of his brother on his tongue.

 

“Such a tease, Sammy.”

 

Dean’s voice was strained, but playful, right hand pushing back a strand of Sam’s shaggy hair that had fallen in his face. He could feel his big brother starting to massage his fingertips against his scalp as he gathered as much spit in his mouth as possible before sliding his lips down the length of Dean’s cock. Sam bobbed his head a couple times slowly, pleasure bubbling up in his gut when his brother began to make filthy sounds above him.

 

“Enjoying yourself, big brother?” Sam asked after he pulled off of Dean with a loud pop, saliva dripping down his chin.

 

“Holy fuck, yes, got such a dirty little mouth, Sammy.”

 

The hand that was once gently stroking Sam’s hair was now closed tight in a fist. Dean’s pupils were blown wide with lust, eyes nearly black. His attention was fixed on Sam, who was now back to stroking him lazily with his hand, looking as though he were about to jump his little brother’s bones at any minute.

 

“Only for you, Dee.”

 

Sam didn’t really know what had caused him to say such a thing. But when he felt Dean yank on his hair, neck muscles burning from the odd angle he was holding him at, Sam regretted ever opening his mouth.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean? Have you been with other guys, Sam?”

 

“No! You’re the only person I’ve ever been with, Dean!” Sam yelled, fingernails digging into his brother’s thighs.

 

“Sam, if I ever found out you were with another guy while we were together…I’d lose my _shit_. I can’t share you. I refuse to share you.”

 

Dean released Sam’s hair, seeming to all of a sudden realize the severity of his grip. He dropped his arms to his sides, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. The look on his face was fierce, a promise, turning Sam’s insides to goo.

 

“You never have to share me, Dee. I’m with you, and I don’t want anyone else. You’re all I need…and I feel the same way about you, ya know? I’d go crazy if I knew you were with someone else.”

 

“…So, it’s a deal, then? We’re exclusive?”

 

“I thought that’s what we were before we had this conversation.”

 

Sam couldn’t help being a smartass. He was a Winchester, after all.

 

“Shut up, bitch. And get naked.”

 

“What the hell, jerk? Me blowing you that boring?”

 

Dean grabbed Sam by the arms and pulled him to his feet. Threading his fingers through his hair, the older boy kissed him breathless, his bare cock rubbing against Sam’s clothed one.

 

“You were perfect, Sammy, but I’m the birthday boy and I’d much rather fuck that tight little ass of yours. You down with that?”

 

Sam responded by quickly tugging off his shirt, throwing it to the side. Dean couldn’t hold back a laugh as he removed the material bunched up around his ankles, his shirt soon joining his little brother’s on the floor as well. While Sam worked on removing his pajama pants, Dean retrieved a condom and the lube, barely able to set the items on the foot of the bed before his little brother jumped into his arms. Sam wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, licking and sucking at his lips, moaning when his brother’s hands found his ass, gripping the meaty flesh tightly.

 

“Eager baby boy?”

 

“Need you so fucking bad, Dee.”

 

His cock was pressed firmly against Dean’s stomach, leaking pre-cum as his big brother maneuvered them over to the bed. He lay Sam on his back gently before spreading his legs wide. Bending down, Dean pressed soft kisses to the inside of his little brother’s left thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake. A needy whine escaped Sam’s throat, urging Dean to stop his teasing.

 

“How do you want it, sweetheart?”

 

It was a simple question. Dean didn’t use any dirty slang words or suggestive innuendo, but there was something about the way he looked, the gravity of the question’s meaning that lit a fire inside Sam.

 

“Can I ride you? Please, Dee?”

 

Smirking, Dean reached behind him to grab the lube, flipping open the cap with his thumb. He then poured a glob of the liquid into his right hand, giving Sam a quick wink before snapping the cap shut and tossing it back to the side.

 

“You wanna bounce this cute little ass on my dick, baby boy?”

 

Sam’s response of “hell yes” was interrupted by Dean slowly slipping his index finger inside him. His brother’s free hand instantly went to his swollen cock, stroking him teasingly while the other stretched his hole.

 

Sam was quickly overwhelmed with an array of sensations. His body temperature spiked, skin flushing red as he started to sweat. He could feel Dean circling his finger, determined to find Sam’s sweet spot. And when he _finally_ hit the tiny, sensitive bundle of nerves, the younger boy couldn’t help but let out a scream of pleasure, hips arching off the mattress.

 

“Right there, oh God, right there Dee,” Sam mewled, hands gripping the sheets beneath him as Dean massaged his prostate with his fingertip.

 

“You look so fucking perfect like this, Sammy. Willing to take anything I’ll give you.”

 

Dean’s voice was wrecked. He was so turned on, Sam could tell. And that made him ridiculously happy. It felt amazing to know that he wasn’t alone in this. That it wasn’t just Sam who had to fight the urge to cream his jeans every time he was in the same room with Dean. His big brother was attracted to him too. Fuck yeah.

 

“Ha! I loo-k per-fect?” Sam gasped as Dean slipped his middle finger inside him. “G-od, i-f onl-y yo-u ha-d a m-irr-or righ-t no-w, De-e.”

 

Sam’s head was spinning, his brother’s fingers slipping in and out of his ass, sending a joint of pleasure up his spin each time they drug across his prostate.

 

“Mmm, if only, little brother. I’d love to fuck you like that. Just wait, baby. Next shitty motel room we stay in with mirrors on the ceiling, it’s happening.”

 

“ _Motherfucker_.”

 

A bead of pre-cum oozed down Sam’s shaft, his hips canting off the bed once more as Dean added a third finger. Fuck. He so close to coming it wasn’t even funny.

 

“Dean, please! M’close!”

 

His brother’s free hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing hard. Sam bit his bottom lip, a feeling of pain trying to push its way into his mind, attempting to intertwine with the pleasure consuming him.

 

“No, Sammy. You don’t get to come until I tell you to, understand? Need you to be a good boy for me and hold on.”

 

“I will, Dee. I’ll be good for you,” Sam promised, strangled moan ripping out of his mouth when Dean released his cock.

 

“I know, baby boy, you’re always so good for me. Never let me down.”

 

And in that moment, Sam knew Dean wasn’t just talking about sex. He was talking about Sam being there for him when John wasn’t. How Sam was always around, unlike their father. Sam was the one constant in Dean’s hectic, sometimes tragic, life. He knew he could count on his little brother to be there for him, no matter what. Sam would _never_ let him down.

 

“ _Dee_!”

 

His big brother removed his fingers as gently as possible, but with how wound up Sam was, it made him ache. He needed his big brother inside him, _now_. Needed to feel their bodies molded together as one.

 

Dean grabbed the condom, ripping open the package and quickly rolled it on to himself. He then picked up the lube once more, drizzling some of the liquid on his cock before setting the bottle down and giving himself a few teasing strokes. Sam, although it took quite a bit of effort, sat up as Dean positioned his back against the headboard. Once his brother was comfortable, Sam straddled his hips. A needy sound spilled from his mouth when Dean began to knead his ass with his fingertips, delivering a couple sharp, quick smacks in between.

 

“C’mon, baby. You know what to do.”

 

Dean’s breath was hot against his neck as Sam reached between them, lining his brother’s dick up with wet, stretched hole. He heard Dean let out a string of curses when he pushed himself down, taking his brother inch by inch until his hips were firmly against Sam’s ass.

 

“God, Dean, love it when you’re inside me. You fill me so full, big brother, _fuck_. Ruined me for everybody else.”

 

Sam gripped Dean’s shoulders tightly, nails digging into the smooth skin, feeling his brother’s muscles flexing beneath his touch. He lifted himself up, until only the head of Dean’s cock was inside him before slamming back down, repeating the motion several times as his brother met each movement with a thrust of his hips.

 

“Goddamn, baby brother. You’re perfect.”

 

Dean leaned forward, tongue flicking over Sam’s right nipple, teasing the delicate tissue as his brother rode his cock. An explosion of pain and pleasure spread through Sam’s body when Dean’s gentle licks turned into nibs, progressing into full on bites. And when Dean sank his teeth into Sam’s pectoral muscle, he ground down on his brother’s cock harder, eliciting a pornographic moan from the older boy. It bruised instantly, a large purple outline of Dean’s bite, dark and raised against the rest of Sam’s fair skin.

 

Sam looked down at the mark. It was beautiful. God, he wished Dean could cover him in bruises and hickies. If it wasn’t for John, he would have begged his big brother to.

 

“Want another, Dee, please?”

 

He could feel himself getting closer to the edge, letting out a low groan when Dean’s hand wrapped around his painfully hard cock, stroking him agonizingly slow.

 

“Love it, huh, baby? Look so pretty all marked up.”

 

“Yes, please, please,” Sam begged, titling his head back to expose his neck.

 

Dean’s movements were starting to become frantic, and Sam knew his big brother was hanging on by a thin thread.

 

“You know I can’t mark your neck, baby boy.”

 

Of course he couldn’t. A bite mark on Sam’s neck would surely get John’s attention. Even though nothing else seemed to.

 

“Dee, do it! I’m not his, I’m yours!”

 

Sam was actually pretty shocked when he felt Dean’s teeth clamp down on his jugular, but holy fuck, was he just as happy. His nails scrapped across Dean’s skin, drawing blood as he came with one last flick of his brother’s wrist, hot and messy all over their stomachs.

 

“Oh God, Dee! Lo-ve yo-u,” Sam moaned, continuing to ride his brother’s cock until he felt Dean’s stomach muscles clench, saw an expression of pure bliss wash over his face. Dean threw his head back, screaming Sam’s name as an orgasm ripped through his body, taking his breath away. Watching his big brother come was mesmerizing, and Sam didn’t take his eyes off Dean until he’d worked himself through his release, until he was completely boneless.

 

They slumped against each other, panting and sweaty. Their bodies tangled together.

 

“My baby boy.”

 

Dean embraced Sam, nuzzling against him as they both enjoyed the high they were feeling from their orgasms. Sam’s chest and neck were sore, but he was happy, satisfied, in the arms of the person who he loved most. His body was tingling with pleasure, muscles aching in that good way as he pressed kisses to Dean’s cheek, shoulder, anywhere he could get his mouth.

 

“You gotta start talking to me, Dee. I couldn’t function properly without you.”

 

Having a heart to heart with Dean while his dick was still up Sam’s ass was probably not the best idea, but it was his only option. There was no way his big brother would sit still and listen if he had the ability to run.

 

“I know, Sammy. I fucked up. Like I said, just gotta make peace with this.”

 

“Dude, next time you are feeling insecure about us, just come talk to me! You know you can tell me anything.”

 

“Okay, Samantha, I get it. Can we drop this now, before one of us grows a vagina?”

 

In response, Sam punched his brother in the chest. Not hard, and it only made Dean laugh, the older boy shooting him a toothy grin.

 

“Jerk.”

 

“Bitch.”

 

It was official. Sam and Dean were a team again. And Sam couldn’t have been more ecstatic about it. He’d missed his big brother so much, even though he’d never truly left him.

 

“Hey Sammy, do me a favor, would you?”

 

“Sure, anything, Dean.”

 

“Show me that perky little ass of yours?”

 

Moaning loudly, Sam didn’t hesitate to slip off Dean’s cock, carefully turning his body so that his ass was facing his brother. It only took a few seconds before Dean’s tongue was dipping into his hole, greedily lapping at the cum oozing from it.

 

“Thank you, baby,” Dean cooed between long, teasing strokes of his tongue over Sam’s hole, a random smack delivered to his ass when the mood struck him.

 

“Course, big brother.”

 

Sam had to focus on his breathing. If Dean licking his own cum out of Sam’s ass wasn’t the hottest thing that had ever happened to him, he didn’t know what was.

 

“You doin’ alright there, Sammy?”

 

What a jackass. Dean knew perfectly well Sam wasn’t doing _alright_! However, before Sam could tell him to sit on it and spin, a strange sound caught his attention.

 

“Fuck!”

 

Dean was in front of him before Sam could even blink, shielding his naked body with his own. The handle of the motel room door twisted open, Sam grabbing ahold of his brother’s waist, burying his face in his back. As if hiding behind Dean could save him from the nuclear blast wave that was John Winchester. And Dean hadn’t even hesitated to throw himself in front of Sam. To take a metaphorical bullet for his baby brother just like he would a real one.

 

“Oh! Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry! I knocked, I swear!”

 

The sound of a maid’s voice, shrill and deeply alarmed made Sam’s head shoot up. His heart was beating so fast he thought he might actually have a heart attack at age sixteen as the woman frantically averted her eyes.

 

“No big deal, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled as the maid gave him a weak smile before all but running out of the room.

 

How did that douche bag sound so calm?! Sam was legitimately on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

 

“Jesus Christ!”

 

“I know, man. I thought we were toast.”

 

“No, Dean, you don’t understand. I won’t let him take you away from me!”

 

Sam was hysterical. Overwhelmed by the fact that he’d just come dangerously close to losing Dean. Because he knew, he just knew, John would do everything in his power to ruin what they had if he found out about them.

 

“He won’t, baby boy. Nobody’s gonna take me away from you, you hear me?”

 

They were hugging again, Sam nuzzled tightly against Dean’s chest, crying.

 

“You promise?”

 

“Yeah, Sammy. Cross my heart.”

 

Sam took a deep breath, calming himself. He believed his big brother. If Dean said something was so, then that was the gospel. No one was gonna take his big brother from him, especially not John fucking Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated! ^_^


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